


CDLIII.

by Ex-Genesis (SevlinRipley)



Category: 21 Jump Street (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Bisexual Male Character, Canon Timeline, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, First Kiss, Homoromantic Male Character, M/M, Mild Blood, POV Third Person Limited, Past Tense, Pining, Uneventful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-03 03:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13332861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/Ex-Genesis
Summary: Being drawn to joining the police force was only his first step to becoming an adult. It was followed by making amends, earning trust along with friendship, and potentially having his heart broken. Whether Jenko was ready for all of these opportunities to show a more mature side, didn't seem to be a factor taken into account.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to [lilly_the_kid](/users/lilly_the_kid/pseuds/lilly_the_kid) |[+](/works/9767258)| and [condnsdmlk](/users/condnsdmlk/pseuds/condnsdmlk) |[+](/works/3361319)| for their awesome (and much better) fanvids (linked) which I must've watched ten or so times each while writing this.

A 'C-' might not have meant much to a lot of people, but to Jenko... The first decent grade he _tried_ to earn showed he understood new concepts with a functional brain. One worth existing.

He saw it, written on the side of his exam, and could've kissed someone. Could've kissed Schmidt. Not that he wanted to, or anything. Schmidt had smiled at him, but Jenko didn't think he understood what that grade was. He might not have thought he did that great of a job helping Jenko, considering his own score.

To celebrate, they'd gone out to grab some beer. Not much, because Schmidt was still figuring out the physical aspect of being a cop. There were yet more tests to pass. Neither one capable of studying while drunk.

They came home, to their shared room at the academy. Jenko slipped into a chair, cracked open a book as Schmidt laid on his bed. "I'm gonna do even better on the next one," Jenko told him. He wanted to, anyway.

Schmidt was smiling wide as he said, "We'll get there." A promise for the future without constraints. Jenko shook his head, and told himself he'd prove himself to Schmidt. "I gotta do better on the next physical, too. I can't believe how tiring it all is. How people choose to do that every day..."

It was a fact that Schmidt complained about an ache or ten after every session they completed. Always with a smile though, and the endorphins effects were undeniable. By the end of it, walking to the showers, he'd be full-body leaning into Jenko's side for a crutch. He didn't mind. In fact, it made Jenko feel extra accomplished. Not only had he pushed Schmidt to his limits, but he was sturdy enough for an exhausted Schmidt to fall upon. They were becoming friends rather than each other's tools.

Which was a good reason not to want to do. Stuff. That Jenko sometimes thought about doing, but _didn't_ want to do, so it didn't matter.

"You did great though," Jenko reassured him. Great for Schmidt, which was good enough. Dragging his finger along a line in the text, Jenko's face contorted. He jerked his head backward, "Wait, what the hell's a 'lee-in' again?"

Schmidt's lower lip puffed up, and he sat up from his bed. Careful not to hit the upper bunk, he came to look at the context of the word, confused. His hands curved over Jenko's shoulders as he leaned forward. Clearing his throat, Jenko opened his eyes wider. He tried to focus them on the book before him rather than looking at Schmidt's face beside him. Chuckling, Schmidt lifted one hand to pat at Jenko's back. "Lein, pronounced 'lean' buddy. As in, 'how come you don't have any body fat, you're so fuckin' lean that everyone around you hates themselves.'"

"That's what it _means_?" Jenko asked, crooking a brow. People got arrested for that?

Sighing Schmidt shook his head, and reached over to lift Jenko's hand up, placing his palm square on the page. Jenko didn't know what was happening, but went with it out of surprise. "Here. Remember what I told you about the dictionary at the back?" Jenko didn't, but whatever. "We'll look it up." So Schmidt did, read the legal definition, and flipped to the original page. Oh, that's what was happening. Jenko's hand was a place-keeper. He didn't exactly... catch what Schmidt was teaching him, but he _might_ remember to look later.

 

Later that night, lights out, Jenko laid with his hands behind his head, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. He hadn't followed through on his plan to tell Schmidt how grateful he was for the help. The words came to his tongue, and disappeared. He didn't want Schmidt to ditch him the second all the physical exams ended. Jenko didn't offer as much as Schmidt did. If he showed his appreciation, dropping Jenko wouldn't be as tempting.

"Hey, Schmidt?" Jenko asked. He couldn't hear the tell-tale snoring, but that didn't mean he wasn't asleep.

"Yeah?" he heard, after a moment.

A soft smile appeared on Jenko's face. "Thanks. For everything. That test was hard and I couldn't have - you know, passed it without your help."

"Well, you're helping me too. Don't tell anyone else, okay? I'm motivated cause I do wanna be a cop, but I just wouldn't... I would've dropped out by now if I didn't have your help. We're even."

Nice as it was to hear, Jenko didn't think it was actually true. He sighed into the dark, and rolled over onto his side, facing out toward the room. "And for being my friend. I realize that, you might still kind of hate me because of high school. So, even if you're pretending..." He didn't want to talk about it, no, but it was something he thought about every day. He was the same guy he was in high school, only a lot more afraid than he wanted to admit. In some ways that fear taught him respect. While he didn't always keep himself in check, he did feel guilt now. When he thought about hurting other people's feelings.

"Jenko." The reprimand was an arrow of hope shot into his heart. He hadn't caused irreparable damage after all. "I'm not pretending. You're cool. And I don't mean that in the stupid high school way. I mean, I actually think you're funny, and you - you're nice when you want to be. You work hard." Not exactly what Jenko had wanted to hear, but it was better than nothing.

"Yeah. Night..." he said, pulling his blanket up higher, hell-bent on ignoring how his stomach roiled.

A long, drawn-out silence followed. Schmidt said, "Goodnight."

 

Jenko forced Schmidt out of bed for an early morning run followed by coffee, eggs, and flashcards. For quite a while each day, the academy would take over their regime, and hand the reigns over around 4pm. Enough time to go relax for an hour before personal study.

 

Another exam came and went, and Jenko dropped the minus. For him to get there, he'd set aside distractions. Now that he'd accomplished his goal, those thoughts he'd put away dog-piled right at the front of his brain. Overwhelmed with the same gratitude from before, and intensified by Schmidt. The way he didn't bother looking at his own grade, but instead peeked at Jenko's. The fact that he leaned in, grabbing at Jenko's shoulder and bicep, squeezing, and smiling. "You did it! Holy shit, Jenko, you beat last week's score!"

Jenko felt his cheeks heating, and forced himself to blink. Relieve his eyes from staring at the grade, through the paper, and to the past... When Schmidt tipped hands-to-knees after a work out, looking up at Jenko through his lashes. Seeking approval that Jenko wanted to give in ways that didn't make sense as a coach. The moments Schmidt would look at him with round eyes and high-five him after he gave a correct answer. The many times Schmidt's mouth had been an inch away from his. As he pointed out where Jenko was making progress. But was a little off 'here' or 'there'. Jenko would make himself listen, though he couldn't stop watching those lips.

"Fuck yeah, I did," Jenko said, voice rough from his dry throat. He tried to smile _and_ stop his blush from rising. "I mean, you did - good. Too." He glanced over at Schmidt's paper and saw that what he had said was true. An understatement, of course. Better than making proclamations that'd be suspicious as hell.

Schmidt's eyes crinkled at that, and he was almost laughing as he said, "Yeah, thanks." Odd to receive praise for something which was already expected. Like it was extra sweet or thoughtful or something. Despite the fact that he'd done a whole lot better than the proffered 'good'.

Oh, and when Schmidt had actually fallen into hugging Jenko at the end of the physical test yesterday and Jenko had frozen up, not really able to reciprocate, not sure if he was supposed to... He swallowed, and looked at Schmidt, now, wondering if he should do the same, since he'd done well for himself, in kind. His eyes flashed to Schmidt's, warm but uncertain. No, he realized. It'd be weird to hug someone in a chair. It'd be weird, right?

"Good job, man," Schmidt said again, still beaming, and he pulled in his arms.

Jenko smiled, but it soon fell away as he looked ahead. Because, right... had he thought he was going to take action now that he was able?

No.

On to the next lesson...


	2. Chapter 2

Only, Schmidt had a pretty good point in saying that their brains and bodies deserved a break. They could worry about that again come Monday when their next lessons began. Their celebration this time, took place along with many of the other students. As always, Schmidt closed up around the other people. Jenko, himself, had gotten used to only communicating one-on-one. But was still adept at turning 'on' and humoring the others. With stories of girls he'd dated and other bullshit that wouldn't matter once they drank a few beers.

About an hour in Schmidt shifted on the bench where he sat at Jenko's side, enough to call his attention and quiet him. Arms folded across the table, he turned to look. Schmidt had his hands folded in his lap, in his own world. Jenko frowned, cleared his throat. Leaned against the booth, shoulder to shoulder with him. "You okay?" He was quiet so as not to embarrass Schmidt.

"Huh?" Schmidt asked, looking up. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine." Startled enough to tell Jenko he'd taken way too long to realize Schmidt wasn't having fun.

"You don't - have any crazy ex-girlfriend stories, or you know, whatever?" Jenko asked, bowing toward Schmidt to conceal their discussion even further.

"Nah," Schmidt said, putting on a wry smile. Reminiscent of the first day at the academy. When Jenko brought out the 'nickname' he'd given in high school. "I'm enjoying hearing about everyone else's dating lives. Mine doesn't seem so shitty now."

Jenko offered a half smile, arm pressed to Schmidt's. "We could... go somewhere else. I mean, I'm pretty tired, so. You know, I'm good to go home. If you are."

Schmidt turned scrutinizing eyes at him, and a genuine smile appeared, albeit dull. "Yeah? I guess I'm pretty tired, myself. Who says we can't go out and celebrate tomorrow too?"

" _No one_ , cause we're fucking adults."

"Damn straight," Schmidt agreed.

"Ladies, and gentlemen," Jenko said, rising from the bench first. As he pulled out his wallet and threw down enough bills to cover his and Schmidt's portions, plus some of the tip. "We'll be seeing you all later. Laughing at your dumb asses when you're hungover as fuck. Peace out." He threw up the peace sign, and everyone laughed. Whether out of the ridiculousness, or because they were tipsy. They let Jenko and Schmidt out from behind the table, and waved them off.

 

Students could leave for the weekends if they wanted to. Some returned home to their spouses and kids, while others escaped to their own beds. Schmidt didn't want to, cause his parents were overbearing. Jenko didn't want to; his parents didn't fucking care what he was doing while he was away. All but two students who took themselves too serious to hang out with the likes of Schmidt and Jenko, left. So they went out drinking alone.

"I want to be someone. Someone who has a voice that matters, you know?" Schmidt asked, sat across from him. Their feet interlocked beneath the table. Jenko nodded, thinking about that statement. He wished he didn't have a part in Schmidt feeling any other way.

"You are someone, man. And your voice does matter," Jenko said, a fierceness to his voice that he hadn't meant to come through.

Schmidt smiled at him. "Thanks..." It was genuine, which blew Jenko's mind. Schmidt shouldn't have to thank anyone for recognizing that about him. He took a deep breath in, and another gulp of his drink.

"I just want to be a bad ass. Aside from the military which is too - foreign - for me, I couldn't think of a better job I could actually land, that had a gun and shit, besides being a cop." Schmidt nodded, agreeing. A similar sentiment aided in his decision to join. "Like, I wanna help people too, but."

"Mhm," Schmidt intoned, "I get it. You will. I kind of thought you already thought you were a bad ass. No?"

Jenko laughed. At himself. He knew he'd always acted that way. More of a dick, than anything to be proud of. "No," Jenko said. He looked to the side, took another sip before he continued, "I'm just a moron who happened to be cocky." There were times growing up, he'd become painfully self-aware. But his pride only added pressure to keep up with the image of himself he'd rather have. So he couldn't - wouldn't back down when he knew it would be better if he did. The principal had told him, on repeat, that he needed to get his grades up. That he was lucky she was even letting him continue playing sports with the test scores he'd earned. He hadn't listened. And by the time he realized there were real consequences for his actions, it was too late.

For a while, after graduation, he'd been in denial. Said the principal didn't understand him, or was a total bitch who hated jocks. Even if those things had been true, Jenko came to see he deserved what he got. He dreamed of popularity and recognition. Being denied the pinnacle of both, not having put in the work, was why he jumped at being Schmidt's friend. He wasn't gonna let his ambitions go, as an adult. Now that they mattered.

"You're not a moron," Schmidt chided, voice soft and sweet. And fuck. How could Jenko drown out the way that voice made him feel?

It was a cyclical type of discussion. Not that he'd had in this exact context before. But he knew that this could go on for hours if he denied the reassurance he didn't deserve. "Well, I _was_. But it's all good, because I'm trying to change." His smile didn't meet his eyes, but he hoped that it was enough.

Schmidt looked at him, wary, but tipped his bottle up into the air. "To bettering ourselves and becoming bad asses!"

He couldn't help it. A smile budded from his lips, and he lifted his glass, clinking it against Schmidt's. "Hear, hear!"

Once again, the battle intensified as Schmidt's foot pressed tightly against his own, and Jenko sighed to himself wondering if he should stop fighting it already...

 

God, he drank way too much. Jenko felt it took an hour to walk to the end of the hallway where their dorm was. Schmidt pressed to his side, and Jenko's arm wrapped around Schmidt's shoulders. So tight he thought his arm might fall off if Schmidt ever moved. "Too much," Jenko said, stomach heavy and sloshing back and forth, back and forth.

"Never again," Schmidt agreed, head burrowed into the crux of Jenko's shoulder. Except for if this happened every time, Jenko thought to himself. Far too tired to even argue the point afterward.

Once they got into the room, they both flopped onto Schmidt's too-small bed, legs bent over the edge. "I can't. I can't, man," Jenko said, speaking of climbing up to the top bunk. A treacherous mountain.

Schmidt giggled. Maybe - hopefully - at the idea that there was anything physical Jenko couldn't do. "Well if you can't, I can't," he said, words slurred. Jenko had to furrow his brow to make certain of an accurate dissection. "Will our legs fall off if we stay this way?"

"I d'no, you're the genius." Talking was difficult, Jenko thought, frowning deeper.

"Ha!" Schmidt's voice rang out too-loud in Jenko's ears, but he still couldn't help but smile. "I am not. You just think I am because -" The following, abrupt silence was much louder than his voice had been. Oh... Jenko knew what Schmidt was about to say. Not that he could deny it. But that didn't make him want to move up and away any less. He pushed off from his elbows, but an arm flung out across his chest. "Don't. That's not what I meant."

"It's okay, dude," Jenko tried, not looking at Schmidt, who'd angled to face Jenko. "It's true. Like I already said."

"No..." Schmidt said, trying to hush Jenko. He rolled onto his side, pulling the one arm from Jenko's chest to lean on. The other took its place in making sure Jenko remained to hear him out. "It's cause I'm a huge nerd with no life, and I have nothing better to do than be good at studying. Cause you're too fucking awesome to weigh yourself down with that shit. Cause you're actually likeable. And you have friends and girlfriends and everyone fucking loves you, man."

A pretty good argument for why Jenko shouldn't take offense. Or, it was, once his brain caught up. Although he didn't appreciate hearing Schmidt call himself a nerd. Not in the way he meant it. Not in the way Jenko used to mean it. Now, when he said it, it was full of affection. A little bit in awe of Schmidt's priorities and abilities. How unique. Compared to most of the people Jenko had paid attention to in his lifetime. Jenko's eyes turned, as he looked at Schmidt, meeting his gaze.

"You're not a nerd with no life. Look at you," Jenko started. His hand itched to meet Schmidt's arm on his chest. Feel his soft skin and the hair on his arms that weren't as coarse as Jenko's own. He'd felt it from time to time during test-taking, when they would align. "You're becoming a cop, and we're friends, and we're gonna be the most bad ass guys in the precinct when we get there."

Schmidt's face softened as the worry of hurting Jenko's feelings melted away. "You're just saying that," he said, "It's not a huge deal, really. Wow I have one whole friend. You're friends with everyone else here."

"No I'm not," Jenko said on a laugh, incredulous. He felt a lot more sober at the moment. Laugh lines appeared between his eyebrows as he bent up to look right into Schmidt's eyes. "Dude, just because I bullshit with people, doesn't mean I'm friends with them. You wanna know what happened to my 'friends' after graduation? They went to out-of-state universities, and I haven't heard from a single one of them since. You're the only friend I've got, too."

"Oh," Schmidt said. If Jenko was ever in his life going to use the word 'sappy' it would be to describe Schmidt's expression in that moment. Schmidt's gaze shifted to where his arm was still semi-pinning Jenko down. He pulled his arm away, burned, and played it off by coughing into the extracted fist. Jenko eyed him, before setting his head to the bed. Schmidt rolled over beside him. "Your bunk still too high up?" he asked, sobering up himself. At least for the time being. 

Jenko stared up through the wooden planks and his mattress. Wondered if he could play it off, find a way to stay on Schmidt's level. With him. His cheeks burned too much to make any lie believable, so he exhaled through his nose. Jenko pulled himself up, with the bed panel and dodged the too-low wood of the bed frame as he stood.

"Yeah, I can get it," he said.

"Oh. Okay." Jenko was likely fooling himself, he realized. But Schmidt sounded as disappointed as he felt.

Committed, Jenko slapped the light switch off. He went around the bed to pull off his clothes. He heard Schmidt shift to lay along his mattress the right way. Jenko pursed his lips and shook his head. He dropped his pants and climbed up. The necklace he wore stuck to the sweat accumulated on his chest. Caused by drinking and the occasional too-closeness that occurred.

He slept okay, once he got there. Although his dreams were weird. Mushy and sometimes too warm. More than a couple times, jerked awake. Paranoid Schmidt was some kind of psychic who saw other's dreams. Because holy fuck Jenko was in way too deep.

 

The next afternoon they both awoke with glaring headaches. "Shit," Jenko said, feeling around his bed for a blanket to pull up over his eyes. Why did their room have to have a window?

"I know what you mean," Schmidt croaked. He took a different approach, Jenko realized once he heard the tell-tale _thud_! proceeded by, "Fuck!"

Jenko smiled into his blanket at first, but tightened his eyes, and jerked the blanket down a moment later. "You alright..?"

"Yep, just a concussion on top of an already heinous headache. I'll be fine."

It hurt too much to shake his head, so Jenko didn't. Slithered down the ladder of their bed, and came to where Schmidt never made it off his own bunk. "Here, lemme see," Jenko said, taking Schmidt's face in his hands. His body blocked the light filtering through their blinds. He didn't feel too bad prying Schmidt's furthest eye open with his thumbs.

"What're you doing?" Schmidt asked, squirming.

"Checking your dilation."

"Oh," Schmidt said, sounding a little surprised.

"Football," Jenko said. It was a point that got hammered into them aside from the plays. Coach couldn't stand for anyone thinking he sucked enough to wind up with dead players. So they better listen up and look out for the symptoms. "If you puke later, tell me. I don't have a flashlight or anything so I can't be sure."

"I was only kidding," Schmidt said, both eyes open of their own accord, shoulders slumping.

Jenko smiled after he decided Schmidt looked okay. He stepped away, hands dropping to his sides. "Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah," Schmidt agreed. Swallowed before finally glancing away from Jenko.

"I better get the aspirin, anyway... You're clearly too clumsy to trust," he joked. He pulled on sweats, a tee, and sneakers.

"Ha ha," Schmidt said without argument; it was absolutely true.

Jenko returned with two breakfast burritos, two coffees, and hot sauce. A first aid kit tucked under his arm. "Sorry for taking so long," he said, entering to find Schmidt mid-change. He dropped his eyes, and turned his focus to the little table in their room, setting everything down. "I went to the food truck outside." He unwrapped the burritos. "Hot sauce?" he asked, doing his best to conceal any strain.

"Please," Schmidt said, the sound of elastic snapping in place along his waist.

Jenko had everything set in place as if they were eating at a diner, by the time Schmidt joined him. Two little pills each, beside their drinks. "Man, I'm starving," Schmidt said, "Thanks!"

"Yeah, sure," Jenko said, still wary of looking at Schmidt head on. Lest he find a certain image burned into his memory. Enough he might not be able to see the clothes Schmidt was wearing.

Once _this_ had started, he'd done his best not to acknowledge that Schmidt was ever undressed. Showering right next to each other, he'd keep his eyes completely trained to his own business. Nothing else. Now that it was out the window, Jenko's brain kept supplying visuals he never asked for. Felt completely ashamed of allowing. Despite not being able to help it.

He choked on his breakfast no less than three times. Decided to attribute it to the fog of a hangover rather than reality. Although Jenko was selfish to admit it, he was grateful Schmidt had a headache. Bad enough that he probably didn't notice his struggle. And the fact that Jenko couldn't look him in the face.


	3. Chapter 3

Time at the academy was pretty much a rinse-repeat cycle. It lasted a total of five weeks, plus the final exam, and for those who passed, induction.

This week, Jenko was too scared to admit that close studying turned even closer. Schmidt was fucking relentless. Tactile in reward for Jenko's progresses, with similar encouragements when he fell short. Jenko, as a coach, didn't know what to do with himself. If he was to copy Schmidt's style. Or if he should balance out all the contact by keeping a veil of separation between them.

Even when he tried to do the former, Schmidt fought him. Celebrated his victories as if Jenko should receive praise for being such a good teacher. Great, clasping hugs. More shoulder squeezing than Jenko could ever know what to do with. He found himself constantly thinking about massages, and ... well, a lot of that, and showering was miserable on top of it, trying to keep any sort of evidence concealed. This all only added on top of their high-fives and fist bumps. What the hell was going on?

That weekend, after hitting up the bar, they went to see a movie. There weren't many choices. Neither had a ton of money after the liquor. The dollar theater within walking distance somehow functioned showing only two titles. When they arrived, they asked the ticket master for two to the next film showing.

As the credits rolled, Jenko wasn't sure what they'd watched. All he knew was that he was hyper-focused on the scene between two guys who ended up kissing. Jenko hadn't expected that at all. He was pretty sure they were watching a movie about a drug heist or something. Until that happened, and that's when he completely lost track of the story.

They were both silent as they walked home. Jenko assumed it was an alcohol/sugar/carbohydrate crash.

This time, Jenko dressed down to his boxers. Immediately climbed up to his bed. But as soon as Schmidt turned the lights off, he felt completely awake. Maybe a little too brave, or perhaps ... tired in ways he couldn't explain.

"Schmidt?"

"Uh-huh?"

"This is gonna sound weird, but... Have you like, ever kissed - a guy before?"

"No...?" Schmidt answered almost immediately. Defensive.

Jenko swallowed and said, "Yeah, no me neither. I was just - wondering."

A pregnant pause came. Schmidt may have fallen asleep. But then he asked, "Did that thing in the movie - did it bother you, or?"

'Bother me?' Jenko mouthed to himself, bewildered. Is that how he sounded, cause he was pretty sure he'd sounded more vulnerable than - cruel. Maybe he was more drunk than he thought. "In what way?" he asked, feeling it out. Bother had different meanings, right? Technically it bothered him. Since it stuck in his mind. Reminded him it was a thing people actually did sometimes. Not only a thought that was trying to ruin his relationship with his best friend.

"Oh." Schmidt said, his mind on the slower side of processing as well. At least they usually drank to about equal amounts of fucked. "Well, actually, now that you ask, I'm not sure. In any way, I guess."

"Um." Well yeah, but not in a way Jenko thought he was currently, or ever, willing to divulge. "I don't know. I guess it just made me think how I've never actually known anyone who has, or ever seen it in person." Yeah, that was safe to say. Jenko congratulated himself on the save of the year.

"Oh, yeah... Me either, I guess. Is that weird? Are we kind of assholes for never being around people who do?"

Jenko's lower lip pouted out as he considered the question. He'd seen people referred to as homophobic a lot, online. And to be fair, a lot of people online were the biggest fuckin' a-holes he'd ever seen, and deserved it. But not knowing anyone gay people didn't make him a close-minded prick, did it? He didn't think badly of them... Now. When he was a kid he was a little more cruel and judgemental. But he'd grown as a person. He wasn't perfect and didn't understand all the things you were or were not supposed to say. But he didn't look down on anybody for their attraction to someone else. He didn't think...

"No? I mean, I don't mind it. I've just never -"

"Had the opportunity," Schmidt offered. Although something about that sounded rather suggestive. Something Jenko should deny. Opportunity sounded as though he wished he was at gay bars all the time. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but he wasn't - fixated on watching other people kiss the same sex.

"I guess?" He didn't want to outright deny it, be a jerk about it.

More silence followed. Jenko's senses dampened in the dark, lulling him. Until Schmidt asked, "Have you thought about it?"

"An opportunity?" Jenko asked, voice higher than he meant it to come out.

"Uh, no. Like, what it'd be like to - you know."

Jenko did know what Schmidt was asking, which was unfortunate. Was it too late to pretend he'd fallen asleep? Because... He huffed out an awkward-sounding laugh. One that didn't belong in the air between them, which he stifled as soon as it reached his ears. "Well..." he drawled, trying to give himself more time to think of an answer that wasn't an actual answer.

"Oh, sorry! You don't have to answer that. If you don't want to."

Eyes widening, Jenko flipped onto his side, hand grabbing the safety rail on the bunk. Shit. No. Now if he didn't say anything, Schmidt was going to think he thought about it all the time. And he did, but not in a - general way? If that was worse than fixation on one person.

"...It's pretty much the same as kissing a girl, right?" Jenko asked, because that wasn't an answer, and changed the subject at the same time. Kind of. Or did that sound incriminating, suggest he thought kissing a guy would be as nice as kissing a girl?

Schmidt was quiet for a short time, and said, "Probably. They're lips. How different can lips be?"

"Yeah," Jenko agreed, because that seemed a good, even stopping place.

But he couldn't stop thinking... How different _could_ lips be? What were Schmidt's lips like? Were they as soft as they looked, or did he kiss with his mouth partly open? Was he the kind of person who crowded you up against something? Or held onto you like you were the only solid thing in the world? Was he cautious, only moving as guided? It was possible he liked kisses under his jaw. And liked to have his neck bitten and - Jenko felt his body turning into honey. He gave an audible sigh.

"You... okay?" Schmidt asked.

Closing his eyes tight, Jenko nodded. Of course, he realized, Schmidt couldn't see that so chirped, "Yeah!"

"Good," Schmidt answered, sounding unsure.

Jenko slapped his forehead, but held back the blow so it didn't make much noise. That was the unfortunate situation he was in, currently. As much as he wished he could smack all the things out of his brain and have a moment of silence. For his sanity and wherewithal.

He'd nearly fallen asleep, and thought Schmidt had too, when he heard, "Jenko...?" What must've been a half an hour later.

"What's up?" he asked, almost earnest. Concerned.

"I've thought about it before."

Jenko's eyebrows shot up. His fist came to his mouth, where he bit it to keep from making any kind of suspicious sounds. While his mind raced over that information. He coughed out an, "Oh?"

Schmidt sounded sad when he asked, "Is that - weird? I shouldn't have told you, right? I'm sorry. Forget I said that!"

Fuck. He fucked it up anyway! "No, man," Jenko said, voice soft, "That's not weird. Or, if it is, it's the kind of weird that's pretty common, I think."

"Mm." The tone was that of someone who thought they were being placated. Told something out of kindness, rather than honesty.

Frowning, Jenko took a deep breath in through his nose and said, "I have - it's." The words got all caught up in his throat, but he hoped what he did get out was enough.

"Really? _You_ have?" Jenko guessed it was out of disbelief, Schmidt blurted out, "Who?"

Jenko felt himself choking before he even actually started to cough. And the dumb thing about the bunk was that he could only sit half way up or jam his head through the ceiling. So he did what he could. Punched himself in the chest trying to dislodge the feeling of saliva going into his lungs. To add insult, Schmidt's face was staring up at him from the side of the bed. "Dude! Are you alright?"

Turning his head away, Jenko rolled his eyes. As he calmed his breathing, he nodded, forcing himself to look at Schmidt. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just - swallowed the wrong way. Chill."

"Okay, yeah. I guess - it's time for bed."

"Mhm." Jenko thanked the stars as Schmidt disappeared back beneath him. Which was a thought for another day. Another night. Or never.

Man, Jenko loved Schmidt and all, but what the hell... How could the guy do him like that and ask who he'd thought about kissing. Jenko didn't even know they had to be talking about a specific person. Didn't it start off as a generic guy-guy thing?

 

When Jenko woke up, it was not a 'good morning' he received but instead a, "Was it someone from high school?" Groaning, Jenko tucked himself completely under his blanket. Even though it was way too hot to stay that way. "I'm sorry! It's just. Mine is and I was just - I was just... Never mind," he finished, sounding dejected on top of apologetic.

He edged the blanket down, slow, til it rest beneath his chin. On a sigh he said, "Yes, okay? I'm not gonna say who so. Is that enough?"

Schmidt was still, and he seemed to have pressed his cheek up against the wall because Jenko could hear him as if through a private tunnel, "It's - I just wondered if there was ... anything in common. About our - But. No, I get it. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'll drop it from now on, I swear."

Which Jenko should have been happy to hear, only... It got him to thinking. Why would Schmidt assume there might be a commonality between them? They didn't even hang out with the same people in high school. Not that his actually happened back in high school. Which raised another question: what if Schmidt's didn't happen until after they'd graduated? And if... IF it didn't, and neither one of them had any friends. Who could they be thinking about besides - ?

The thought seized him. With squinted eyes, Jenko scooted toward the wall, and turned his head down to the wall. "I'm curious, too. I just... Don't think I can." Because if that theory was wrong, Jenko thought it might break his heart to hear. Even if he was able to save face and deny that Schmidt was the person he was talking about. "It's not a good idea."

"Oh."

That, alone, was enough to undo every little thing Jenko had done this entire time to protect himself. He waited until Schmidt showered, dressed, and left for breakfast. Before he finally climbed out from under his covers. _Fuck my life_...


	4. Chapter 4

Jenko didn't mean to go dead-air on Schmidt. Yet, the thought of saying almost anything, anymore, worried him. On top of that worry, he kept obsessing over the idea that in some universe, Schmidt might feel the same fucking way. What was more, he obsessed over the fact that he was such a grade-A piece of shit to Schmidt. Who could likely never forgive him enough to be anything other than friends, anyway. If he wasn't lying about that, too.

The cafeteria table felt nice against his forehead...

"You haven't eaten anything," Schmidt said with a gentle prod to Jenko's arm with his elbow. "You're gonna be ravenous if you don't have anything before training." _Why would that make me a raven?_ Jenko wondered, and drew his arms closer to his face. Schmidt was so weird sometimes.

Or Jenko could pass out and die, and that would be okay. Or be kicked out. Not have to keep bothering Schmidt, and go back to fucking every hot chick he met, and everything would be fine.

He mulled over the pros of such a situation before he felt Schmidt close in on his space. Acutely aware of the mouth by his ear whispering, "Dude, are you mad at me?" Schmidt sounded tense. Already apologetic, not sure why.

Jenko turned to the side, enough to look at Schmidt from the corner of his eyes. "No. I got the flu or something." He knew friends weren't supposed to lie to each other. He already abused that rule, and so what was one more white lie? It wasn't the flu making him feel sick and uneasy, but it could've been. Rolling his head to stare at the speckled tabletop, Jenko flinched when Schmidt's hand landed on the back of his neck. Rubbed at the sides with his fingers, and thumb.

It could've made him cry. If he weren't so pissed at himself.

"No fever, but you are kind of red..." Schmidt observed. "You want me to find you some Tylenol? Soup? I can tell the teacher you're out of it, see if he can excuse you for a day, but..." Schmidt worried over the consequences of Jenko not being able to take part. There was a rule, and as far as they were both aware, it was a damn strict one. Attend every day, and complete every course.

"No," Jenko said, grinding it out from where his brain was on overload. Might've been trying to strangle him by constricting his throat. He couldn't blame it. "I'll be fine." The urge to shrug off the attention was as strong as the one to take his hand and lace his fingers through Schmidt's. Keep him there. Not on Jenko's neck, but close.

He didn't do either. Somehow.

 

As it turned out, Jenko should have eaten. Schmidt, for god's sake, outran him. Outdid him on everything, actually. Jenko was so tired, and... Well, and other things he didn't want to focus on. But at least he was there and got the credit. Schmidt believed he was ill, and tomorrow he could have a miraculous recovery.

Could he? Would. Force himself to, or decide whether he was giving up.

After class, Schmidt crowded up behind him. Laid both his palms flat against Jenko's back, and guided him to the showers. Jenko lifted an arm to wipe at the sweat on his brow. "We'll get you cleaned up, and to bed. Don't worry about studying tonight. You've been doing so well, you can afford to take a hit if for some reason we can't make up for it tomorrow. Okay?" Schmidt said, trying to reassure a Jenko who was at half-mast, or less. It should've comforted Jenko he was willing to take care of him. Except that it preyed on his kindness.

Once in the locker rooms, Jenko moved away enough to sit himself on a bench. He looked at his hands, grimy and rough. "I just need a second, man. Gonna wait for everyone else to clear out of here. You can go ahead if you want, though." And part of him hoped he did, because he didn't know how far the mother-henning would go. That, or if Schmidt stayed, he could convince him that he was starting to feel better. Didn't need Schmidt all up in his space. Without yelling at him, which is what his brain kind of wanted to do. 'Don't you know who you're wasting your time on? Why are you so stupid and unselfish! You don't need me anymore, so stop.'

"Okay. Good idea..." Schmidt said, not hesitating to come around and sit thigh-to-thigh with Jenko. He put his palm on Jenko's back again and began to sooth his friend with circular motions. Jenko blanched, and turned away.

"I'm not sick," he said, voice gruff.

"Hm?" Jenko asked, leaning forward, and closer.

"I'm not sick," Jenko offered, louder this time. Disappointed. Only in himself.

Schmidt laughed. "Um, dude, I'm pretty sure you are. I fucking beat you. In physical training. If you're well, I developed the x-gene last night."

Jenko clucked his tongue. "Nerd," he whispered under his breath, fond, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I know, it's like you said though. I'm out of it, that's all. So, you can stop taking care of me, alright? I'm fine. I'm just in my head or something."

Schmidt took his hand back, but said, "You know, friends can help with that, too. You can talk to me, clear your mind." He was leaning his shoulder into Jenko's, voice playful. Jenko almost thought he could open up. Say, 'Well, actually, I have this super lame crush on someone and I'm starting to hate myself for it.' But he looked Schmidt dead-on.

Hand-to-god, he would've kissed him right then and there. But a locker slammed closed behind his left ear.

Jerking forward and away from the sound, Jenko stood up from the bench and turned, face burning. "Shower," he said shortly, and moved to the lone shower with walls and a curtain around it. They called it the pussy stall, and Jenko deserved the name. Not able to tell someone that he had feelings for them. That part was new.

He loved chick's bodies, loved being with them, but there was never anything romantic there. They could be cool as hell, and Jenko never once thought about only kissing them.

So being bombarded with that want day in and day out was driving him insane.

"Jenko...?" Schmidt called out, confused when he didn't actually see Jenko in the showers.

"In here. In case of - germs," he said, before smothering his face in his hands under the lukewarm water.

"Oh. I'm not worried about -"

" _I am_."

"Kay." Uneasy, disheartened. Good, Jenko. Make him feel like shit. That'll teach him for being fucking amazing all the time... Asshole.

 

After an extraordinary quiet and unproductive study session, they'd gone to bed. Jenko was ready to pass out, but Schmidt couldn't keep his mouth shut. "I know this is the last week and it's kind of terrifying. But. Don't give up, Jenko. You can do this. You deserve to let yourself do this."

It was the last week. Jenko hadn't been thinking that...

The final exam was right around the corner. Holy shit, what if they both made it through only to have different partners assigned? That was bound to happen, wasn't it? The department was huge, and there was no way in hell they'd be saddled together. Even if they begged for it, which Jenko was already half-way on his knees, mentally, to doing.

What the fuck did he know after all this time?! Nothing! Nothing about being a cop, anyway, besides how to shoot things and run after them. Every time he learned bits of information for a test, it exited his brain as soon it was over. He hadn't cared because he was so caught up in spending his life thinking about - the obvious. Without realizing that in the end he worked for nothing. It wouldn't do him jack-shit in the real world! Physicality was such a minuscule part of what a cop did that he'd get his ass fired for sure. If he was alone. And didn't have a partner who understood him. Or, one, anyway, who was too nice to tell him he didn't belong - to go work at a McDonald's.

"Jenko?"

Fuck. Shit. His choices, if they _were_ that, and not already written out for him, were simple. Either get fired immediately. Or continue living in the hell that was pining after someone who would be better off without him.

"Jenko, you're freaking me out."

"I'm freaking out," Jenko finally managed to say, and immediately regretted it. Because of course he'd go and say selfish bullshit, when Schmidt had meant that he, too, feared the future. He shut his mouth, tight, and shook his head. No. No more of that. God damn it.

"...Okay. Well, do you want to come down and talk?" Silence. "Jenko, c'mon, it'll be okay."

No. It wouldn't. Because his parents were right to ignore him. Nothing that he was. Which was exactly what he deserved: nothing. And now he realized that despite talk of learning his lessons. Changing as a person, taking nothing for granted and working his ass off to get what he wanted... He'd gone and done the same old shit as before. He might've received a winning nomination for prom king, might pass his fucking exam to be a cop. But it wouldn't matter when the day came, because he wasn't fit to do it.

"If you're not coming down here, I'll come up there. And that won't help _anyone_ ," Schmidt threatened, still trying _so_ hard for _no_ reason.

"Don't. I'm fine." He said it to try and relieve Schmidt of whatever duty he felt he had to make Jenko feel better. Almost managed to make it sound true.

Schmidt sighed, long-suffering. "You're not fine. You said you were freaking out. I can tell that you're freaking out. Just come down. Please?" More silence. "Fine," Schmidt said, and for a heartbeat Jenko thought the subject dropped. Then came padding footsteps, and the ladder at the end of the bed creaked.

He would only end up hurting himself if he tried to fit up here, with Jenko. "No. I'll - I'll come down. Just. Wait."

"Good."

Lights flipped on as Jenko moved to the floor. Schmidt pulled out the two chairs to face each other. He sat, toes perched on either side of the chair legs, hands folded in front of him. Jenko followed suit. "What?" he asked, quiet and low, because he knew nothing Schmidt could say would make him feel better.

Schmidt leaned forward, and gripped Jenko's knees. Which captured his attention. "Stop freaking out," Schmidt said, "We are going to graduate, and we are going to get our badges and guns. And we are going to kick some criminal ass because we have worked hard and put in the time, and that's how this works.

"Dude," Jenko said, leaning in with a grave expression. "I don't remember anything you've taught me. It's gone. I'm trying to remember a single answer I've given on any of our tests, and I can't remember shit. So you tell me: how the fuck am I supposed to make it?"

Looking shaken at the words, Schmidt pulled back into his own space, one eyebrow twitching. "You - you don't remember any of it?"

"Nope," Jenko said, with a pop. "Might as well have amnesia for all I remember. Words and numbers - fall right outta my head, man." Jenko sighed, rolling his head to the side to crack it. Anger licking up inside of him. "I don't even know how to apologize for wasting your time." Cause that's all it was.

Anyone with two legs could've helped Schmidt figure out how navigate tires and shit. But even someone as smart, patient, and confident as Schmidt couldn't get Jenko's stupid brain to work.

"You didn't," Schmidt hissed. "Stop. Stop talking about yourself that way. You just haven't had enough experience to apply everything to, or repetition or something. Trust me, there are more ways to learn, and maybe you need something more persistent. Whatever you didn't learn here, you'll figure out once you're in the field long enough."

"Tch," Jenko started, "If I get the chance."

"You will, man. Even if someone's not doing great, they'll put 'em on probation before ever firing them."

"Yeah? Well what if my partner hates my fucking guts cause I can never do anything right? They're not gonna teach me how you have."

Frowning, Schmidt leaned down, elbows on his knees. "One, you don't know that. Lots of people are way nicer and way smarter than me, who you wouldn't have to pull along on a leash while you're running. I'm not as unique as you think I am. Just cause you used to surround yourself with jerks... Two, you don't know we're not gonna be partners. And if we are, I swear I won't give up on you, okay?"

Jenko shook his head, sucked in a deep breath. "You don't get it, Schmidt. I can't - I won't ..." Do this without you. Jenko looked down, finding his leg shaking of its own accord, so he steeled his jaw, and ceased its movement. God! Why was he so weak?

"Do you... _want_ to be my partner?" Schmidt asked, eyebrows arched.

That, too, called Jenko's attention. Of course he did. Why would Schmidt need to ask? "Uh, _yeah_ , Schmidt. Fuck."

Shaking his head, Schmidt laughed under his breath. "Alright, cranky. Well haven't you ever heard that you can put in requests for shit like that?"

"Don't they have like conflict of interest rules or something?"

"What? You mean for married couples?"

Oh. Wait. Jenko blinked, and said, "Ah, is that the only - I just thought maybe. If people were friends or something they'd see that as soft, wanting to be partners. Deny it on principle." But come to think of it, it might not be so great to have feelings for your partner either. Although it was good to be protective of each other, a lot of things could go crooked. If they held too much esteem for their counterparts. People lying on their behalf. Or killing. Going outside the law to take care of shit on their own terms. That kind of thing.

Man, being a cop was confusing already.

"Some people might have a problem with it. But I'm pretty sure I heard some vets talking about how they'd done something similar. They were still partners when they retired."

Jenko's chest went tight and warm, almost sickeningly so when he heard that. A slight burn prickled at his eyes as well. Wow. Imagine that. Being with someone for so long and never asking to for a transfer or -. Was it getting harder to breathe in here? Jenko tugged at the collar of his tee, swallowed. "Really?" he asked, voice scratchy, looking to the side.

"Uh, not that - I'm not saying we'd have to be partners forever. Um... Sorry." Schmidt shook his head, sheepish.

"You." Hm... How did Jenko want to put this? He didn't want Schmidt feeling obligated because Jenko was panicking. "You would do that? Why?"

Okay, not the best way to put it. Schmidt smiled in surprise, but it soon faltered, and his mouth became a thin line as he said, "You make me better." That simple. "But if you don't want to after all, then I - I get it." Although his expression didn't match up to the sentiment. And it shouldn't have. Because that would've made no sense whatsoever.

"You're not saying this cause you feel bad for me." Jenko said, but it was edging on being a question.

"No, man. Of course not." Yeah, he guessed Schmidt was too smart to mess up his future career.

Jenko sighed, looked Schmidt right in the eyes. "I'm only agreeing if you really wanna be my partner, too. Deal?"

An exhale rushed out of Schmidt's body, and he was beaming at Jenko when he said, "Duh, dummy. Of course I wanna be your partner. Fuck yeah!" he said, holding up both of his hands for a double five. And with everything - almost - loosening in Jenko's chest, he allowed himself to smile in the moment. Meet Schmidt's hands in the air, interlocking fingers as they made the pact.

It didn't guarantee their future, submitting a request. But perhaps if Schmidt filed it himself... Used his SAT words and good-student persuasion tactics, it'd all be fine.

Except for the fact Jenko was still sort of...

Anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

Nothing like having one huge issue pile on top of another one. Only to have the second one fixed by the first one to make you even more of a mess, Jenko thought, from beneath his covers. Again. He'd woken up too early, while Schmidt snored from beneath him. Jenko worried at his lip. If they did get assigned as partners, it'd be his fault if some day Schmidt caught wind of how Jenko felt. And became super uncomfortable. Caught up in figuring out how to let Jenko down gently at the same time as finding someone else to team up with. Fuck. Why'd he have to get excited last night and agree to put the request in...?

He'd have to wait and see if it got approved. If it didn't, he had other things to worry about. If it did. He'd figure it out when the time came.

Shouldn't be too long. They were about six days away from their final exam. He needed to focus on his studies. Make sure Schmidt was set and that, as a teacher, he hadn't been blinded by the fact that Schmidt was so fucking -

Out came a long, gnarly snore that almost had Jenko cracking up to pieces when Schmidt woke himself up. "Wh-huh?" Schmidt asked, mattress creaking as he sat up.

"Uh, mornin'," Jenko said, hand lazily covering his mouth as he bit back a laugh.

"Oh," Schmidt said, sounding dead-tired still, "Morning. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Nope. But now that _you're_ up, we should hit the dirt, or the books. Which first?"

Jenko didn't know if Schmidt had taken a liking to the endorphin rush of a morning jog. Or if it was a tactic he'd learned to get Jenko's rowdiness down before studying. Either way, it benefited them both the same. Wake up, brush teeth, run, shower, breakfast, books. This was their chosen routine throughout the rest of the week.

 

The last written test, Jenko was an actual mess. His temples glistened with sweat. Everyone had to have at least one seat between them and any other student, so Schmidt felt _miles_ away. Jenko spread his feet out as far as he could without drawing attention to himself, almost as soon as they'd sat down. But it didn't matter. The chair between them a blockade, even if Schmidt _had_ gotten the memo that Jenko was dying for his reassurance. Heart pounding, pencil chewed apart in his mouth. Which Schmidt _hadn't_ gotten, and thus sat calm and quiet, not reaching out in kind.

Blue, same as always before, the tests landed on the tables one at a time. That normality, at least, somewhat comforting.

Being at the end of the table, Jenko was also handed Schmidt's test, to pass to him. He handed it over, swallowing harshly as he looked at Schmidt, grave and a little bit desperate. Schmidt reached over the other side of the paper, crossing their arms, pressing, to take his test. He nodded to Jenko, and offered a short smile. Jenko had hoped for more, but he didn't know what he expected. The test had begun, and they weren't allowed to speak.

Tendons in his neck tightened. Jenko continued to bite at his eraser as he read the first question, trying not to let his head swim and vision fog up. The same as in high school.

He took it slow, but his leg bounced under the table expressing the true pace of his nerves, rapid and haywire. God, he was gonna bomb. Why was he even worried about a future partner; he was sitting right here in panic and confusion. Writing defeat into every answer. He was certain that was the case.

The wood of the pencil bent under his thumb, about two seconds from breaking in half. Schmidt cleared his throat, broke through Jenko's self-destructive reverie. Jenko's head jerked up, and he glanced to the side. Schmidt looked at him, eyes wide and eyebrows tight. Jenko's tongue darted out to his lips as he looked at Schmidt. What he saw there was faith and encouragement. If for some reason Jenko did fail - and he wouldn't - Schmidt would remain at his side, steadfast. Even if Jenko had to take the course thirty times, Schmidt would make sure he passed. Nodding, Jenko opened his mouth, but realized he had to keep silent. Schmidt nodded, and... Whether it was by third sight, or if by simple readjustment, their shoes connected. Schmidt pressed in. Not a fist bump or a high five, but under the circumstances it was perfect.

Bowing his head, Jenko looked at the test with a new focus, the questions much clearer.

 

Pass or fail, everyone at the academy would find out their grades the next day.

For the first time in weeks, Schmidt and Jenko were separating. Schmidt, who'd given up his apartment upon entering the academy, was to stay with his parents. Until he found out what was happening with the rest of his life. Jenko realized, he had to go somewhere too. The new recruits were going to be needing their dorm. "Ah, I think I'm just gonna see if I can crash with a girl I used to date," he told Schmidt, as he watched his friend packing his bags. Schmidt was folding each item and putting it in its specific place. His eyes flicked up as he said this because he knew it was a little misleading.

Dating. That wasn't something he actually did. Sure, he'd take a girl to a dinner. But that only happened once, and the rest of the time it was only sex and. Yeah, he was sure he could find a girl who wouldn't mind letting him on her couch. Or bed, depending on how he'd left it the last time.

"I'd invite you to stay at my parent's place but I'd die of humiliation so," Schmidt said, light-hearted. Jenko gave a terse smile to Schmidt's back and shrugged.

"Yeah, man, no problem. You don't have to worry about me." If all else failed he could find some stranger at the bar to go home with for the night. "So um," he started, hand pressed to the nape of his neck, "Do you know when they might get back to us about the whole partner deal?"

Schmidt turned around with a smile. "Oh, yeah. So they won't make that decision until they know we both passed. But they should respond before the ceremony. When I hear from 'em, I'll give you a call. You got your phone?" Jenko reached into his pocket, pulled it out, and tossed it over so Schmidt could put his number in the contacts. Schmidt did the same with his own phone. As he started opening up the right app, Schmidt said, "Whoa. That's. A lot of people."

Smiling, amused, Jenko said, "Ah, yeah you know. Little Black Book gone mobile."

"Cool," Schmidt said, drawn out. Too drawn out and not actually impressed. Or happy? Jenko's brows furrowed. He didn't know what to say. Was Schmidt judging him for being with so many people? Cause he thought that was a well-known fact. It shouldn't have actually surprised him. "You actually talk to these girls?"

"I _have_. I think." At least when he was getting their number. Although there were a few times some _awesome_ girls gave him their friends' numbers. Sometimes numbers landed next to him on napkins at a bar, without a word. That was pretty cool, too. Jenko couldn't remember if he ever actually called them. "Not recently though. Been busy." He said it with a mocking tone. Schmidt knew where he'd been lately. Attached to his hip.

"Right," Schmidt said, soft laugh bitter. Jenko narrowed his eyes, trying to study Schmidt. Who kept his head down and began typing in his number before handing Jenko his phone. Eyes darting to Schmidt's phone, Jenko shook his head. Whatever. He typed in his info, and returned the phone, placing it on Schmidt's open palm. Not sure _why_ things were weird between them, but knowing that something was off. "Well, I guess I don't have to worry about you then. You've got plenty of options."

"Mm," Jenko said, lips pursed, watching Schmidt return to his suitcase. Trying to take on a lighter note, Jenko asked, "Hey, you wanna grab dinner tonight before you go home?"

It was quiet and Schmidt zipped up his case. "Nah, you're gonna be pretty busy now that we're outta here, right?" He was laughing, but it wasn't because anything was funny. Damn it... Jenko rubbed at his forehead, eyes squeezing shut as he groaned. What the fuck was happening, _now_?

"Okay," Jenko said, slow, and cold. "Well I kind of wouldn't have invited you if that were true, but great." He rose from the dresser he'd been half-sitting on, and pulled open the draws. Scooped up his clothes in one armful. He let everything drop into darkness of his bag before stamping them in with his foot. Aware that Schmidt was observing him in return.

"I -" Schmidt started, as Jenko leaned down and jerked the zipper shut. He slung his duffel bag strap over his shoulder and turned around to look at Schmidt. His face muscles pulled tense around his jaw, and his eyes were slits. Schmidt exhaled, loud, shoulders dropping. "Uh. That was me," he started, not looking at Jenko, but at the floor beside his feet, "Being insecure. And I think that it would be really cool to have dinner with you."

Jenko cocked his head to the side. Insecure? The coldness melted into fondness and something akin to incredulity. Really? After all this? "Schmidt," he said, softer than he should have, but his chest felt light and fluttery and it just came out that way.

"I know. I'm an idiot," Schmidt said, smiling, and twisting his gaze up to meet Jenko's eyes, relieved.

"Yeah. You are." Jenko swung his arm up and came to meet Schmidt's shoulders. "What's your flavor?"

"Mexican?" Schmidt asked, grabbing his suitcase. Jenko led him out of the building.


	6. Chapter 6

As much as it sucked to not have Schmidt around, Jenko found himself breathing easier. He could think other thoughts. Not having to deny his feelings or worry over being obvious - it was nice. Not to say that he didn't still grapple with how often it was okay to text Schmidt. Whether he was a bad person for sleeping with people when he had the feelings he did for someone else. If the thoughts he had while doing so made him especially awful.

Things Jenko never used to consider, before Schmidt became his friend. In fact, becoming friends with someone whose life he used to fuck with had Jenko questioning a _lot_ of things. He kind of wished it didn't, because he'd feel a lot less shitty about himself. But he'd looked in the mirror hard enough to know that he'd be a worse person to remain ignorant when he didn't have to.

He was enjoying his time out of the academy, busying himself with working out and girls. But a dull ache held over from the fact that he _missed_ Schmidt. If that didn't make him a pussy, he didn't know what would, because it wasn't going to be forever. They were taking a natural step back after holing up in the same room for so long. (When the results ended up being that they'd both passed, they hadn't hung out to celebrate. Schmidt's parents were smothering him with affection. Which sounded cool, and Jenko wouldn't interrupt their plans. Instead he got what-is-dignity drunk. Maybe-probably rambled about how fucking gay he was for Schmidt to his then-roommate. Jenko was lucky to have a blank slot where that memory should have stored itself.) Still, it was a pain that only temporarily left when Schmidt would text him back... Which often served to remind him of the guilt he was harboring regarding the partner issue.

 

The partner issue. Well, there it was. Jenko felt a little giddy when Schmidt called him to say they should meet at a pizza parlor. Because guess what! Their request approval came through. Until the crushing reality settled in that he had to do the right thing and tell Schmidt the truth.

And hey, it could - _not_ \- be so bad. Maybe Schmidt would feel flattered and totally cool with it. Lots of people had crushes on Jenko back in the day, and he never minded. Although, he kind of usually - broke their hearts but. Sure. No, it was gonna be fine. Schmidt wasn't Jenko. And if he was, maybe it was a lesson he deserved. Even if he kind of felt he'd already been learning how wrong he was about that, among other things. Man, he was a huge bag of dicks back then...

Taking in a deep breath, Jenko whispered to himself to be cool. He walked up the concrete steps to the gold-varnished door handle. Shoved one hand in his jean pocket, thumb left out as he swallowed back the nerves making him feel ill.

A small wave of relief or overwhelming affection, broke through the anxiety as he saw Schmidt. He was already sitting at a table in the back corner. Jenko smiled wide, a little kid who got a free stuffed animal. Whatever. He was still cool. His hand left the safety of his pocket, meeting Schmidt's for a five as he slid into the opposing booth.

"Hey man," he said, bringing both of his sweaty palms to the table surface. "It's been forever."

"Right?" Schmidt laughed, eyes crinkled at the corners, and bright. "I guess that's what happens when you live in someone's pocket for a month. Co-dependency and shit."

"Yeah, totally," Jenko said, mimicking Schmidt's smile. Although he wasn't sure what Co-dependency was. ... "Wait," Jenko whispered, leaning forward, "Are you addicted to some kind of - like cocaine or something?"

Schmidt furrowed his brow and cocked his head. "Uh, no. No. Sort of. Co-dependency means -" he sighed, "You're not off the mark or anything. I was just kind of using it in the socially accepted slang way? Kind of. It just meant. That um." Schmidt looked down at his hands, trying to figure something out. Jenko was waiting, but Schmidt changed tracks and said, "Anyway. I ordered already. Hope that's cool."

"Oh, yeah, sure!" He leaned back into his seat; might as well be as comfortable as he can before shit hits the fan. Jenko watched Schmidt reach into his shirt pocket and pull out a folded up piece of paper. Right. Jenko's breath caught in his chest for a moment, and he asked, "That it?"

Smiling, excited, Schmidt unfolded the paper and laid it out before Jenko, and slammed a pen down on top of it. "Yeah, we have to sign it and send it back to the department. After we get our badges tomorrow, it'll be set in stone. We'll be partners!"

Looking at the offending pen, Jenko's stomach churned. He tapped his fingers, nerves burning through him. "Ah, cool. That's awesome," he said, dry.

Schmidt looked a little uneasy as he said, "Yup," pressing the paper forward, "I already signed it. So, your turn."

"Uh-huh," Jenko said, lips coming together in a tight line. He let out a hot breath through his nose and leaned forward - as if he was actually gonna read it. Fuck. He nodded to himself and inhaled, deep, before finally looking up to say, "Uh. There's kind of something I need to tell you."

"Okay..." Schmidt's eyes grew darker. Thought Jenko was backing out. And maybe in a small way he was. If Schmidt wasn't fond of the idea of sticking to someone who. Well, might make him uncomfortable by having feelings he didn't reciprocate. In that case, their partnership wouldn't see the light of day.

"I kind of need you to not look at me, though. And can you try to pretend you're not listening to me?"

"Our pizza's gonna be here in about two seconds," Schmidt whispered.

"Oh," Jenko breathed out. "Y-you wanna wait until after we eat?" he asked, unsure.

"Well, what is it?" Schmidt asked, hissing. If it was that important he couldn't look at Jenko, shouldn't it _not_ wait?

Jenko's eyes flicked to the side and he grimaced. "Shit. Fine. I mean, can you just. Just turn around for a second. Look at the bar or something and I'll say it fast."

Rolling his eyes, Schmidt huffed, and turned in his chair. "There. Happy?"

"I'm just trying to make this easier, okay Schmidt. Don't get so - ugh. Whatever!" He was _not_ going to get mad at Schmidt for making things harder when it wasn't his fault in the first place. Shit. Shit, now he actually had to say it, though. Fuck! Jenko's thumb knuckle was hitting the table harder as his hands shook, tapping out a release of nerves. He hadn't meant to put himself under more pressure. He also didn't need a waiter interrupting halfway through confessing his stupid fucking crush to Schmidt either. "You're." Jenko's heart was beating way too fast. Whatever, _just do it_ , he told himself. "You're the one. You're the one I thought about kissing before. Only it wasn't just once, but kind of all the time or whatever, okay?" He knew he sounded kind of mad, bored, or something else uninspiring, but it was all he could manage to not pussy out.

Stiff, Schmidt didn't turn around for like an hour, Jenko staring at the back of his head. Eyes burning and dewy, because fuck. Fuck, he _really_ cared about a single stupid reaction. That was _so_ not his deal. Why did he _care_ so much about everything lately.

When Schmidt did turn around, Jenko realized he hadn't been breathing. The next gasp of air he took pained him, jagged as it was. There was some sort of smile on Schmidt's face, but Jenko was wary of it. Could've been mocking, or - Jenko didn't know what, but he wasn't sure what it meant. "So, what, you're like in love with me?" Schmidt asked, tone unreadable. Although it didn't seem outright cruel, Jenko still felt a little like Schmidt found it funny.

Which Jenko could see, if it didn't fucking hurt so much. Haha, fell for the guy you used to torture. That's a good one, Jenko.

"I mean," Jenko, a kicked puppy, said - but he didn't even know anymore... 'Be cool' went right out the window. "Like. Maybe? Kind of." His back stiffened, and he cast his eyes to the side. "Dude, I get it if you want to make this into a whole revenge thing, but. I'm just saying, that _is_ kind of mean."

"Revenge?" Schmidt asked, the laugh under his breath out of place. "What - oh. Ohhh. You think _I'm_ making fun of _you_?" There was a palm covering Jenko's. Making him hyper aware of every indent, callous, as well as the general warmth of Schmidt's hand. "Jenko, do you even _know_ me? Cause, first of all, no one falls in love with someone after knowing them for a month. And second, you don't know me _that_ well if you think I'm fucked enough to mock you for thinking that you are."

Jenko's mouth gaped open at that. Before he could say anything, he pulled his arm into his lap and turned his face away to hide a blush from their waiter. "Hi. Thanks," Schmidt said. Then waved at the waiter who sat down the pizza between them and asked if they needed anything else. "Nope, we're all good. Aren't we, Jenko?" Jenko felt Schmidt's foot jab into his under the table, and he hardened his jaw, looking up.

"Great." He flashed a sliver of a smile, and once the waiter was gone, turned a glare on Schmidt. "C'mon, man. Don't humiliate me."

"Sorry," Schmidt said, although he didn't sound that way. "I'm just trying to figure out if you're being real with me right now. But I think you found a way to yank my chain... It _seemed_ like something was up at the academy, but every time I tried to give you a chance to tell me, which was like _all_ the time, you didn't. So I figured you must - that I was just confused. And then - this. Right before you sign the paper that would make us partners.

Besides. You're like the straightest guy I know. Knew. I don't know. Do _I_ even know who you are? _Plus_ , you recoiled pretty fucking fast when that guy came over here. You're not very good at acting if you're trying to pretend you're cool with being with a guy."

His whole face felt tight, screwed up. Jenko swallowed. "What?" he asked, barely audible. Before realizing his chest was heaving, and he needed a fucking second to figure out what the hell was going on. Jenko rose from the table and made his way to the restroom, slamming the door open. He braced himself against the sink, head lowered, nostrils flaring.

What the hell did any of _that_ mean? "Shit!" he yelled, throwing a fist at the plastic towel dispenser. A crack appeared where he'd hit. He'd have to find a way to pay for it, but right now he didn't care.

Didn't notice that the plastic edges cut across the tops of his fingers. Until he felt a sudden warmth. And looked down at the blood bubbling up from the surface. Beginning to trickle down as it accumulated. He took a steadying breath in, and was about to grab a paper towel to wipe up the mess when the door creaked open. At first Schmidt looked scandalized, ready to yell at Jenko for making so much noise in public. But as soon as he saw Jenko's fingers, he looked worried. Unexpected as hell, but Jenko would take it. He felt his anger dip down a couple notches, though his confusion levels soared off the charts.

"Whoa," Schmidt said, hushed, as he reached for Jenko's hand. Jenko pulled his hands to his chest, and Schmidt repelled, as if burned by the rejection. He heaved a sigh, not so much frustrated as sad, and pulled down some toweling before running it under warm water. "Please, will you let me?" he asked, pointing the cloth at the blood. Relenting, he lowered his hand. Schmidt took it in his own, patting at the droplets with the other. "What - Jenko." Schmidt sounded as lost as Jenko felt. Which just wasn't fair. Eventually, after focusing everything on tending to Jenko's wounds - it only burned a little, wasn't that big of a deal - Schmidt sighed again. "Do you _remember_ the names you used to call me in school?"

Jenko's brow creased, as he tried to remember, though he knew it wasn't a good idea. But one, by one, by one, they came back to him, and Jenko felt well and truly ill. He backed up into the wall, and took his hand with him. "You think - you think I'd do that - _now_?"

Schmidt shrugged, barely looking at Jenko. His cheeks tainted red, goosebumps up his arms, and - god if Jenko didn't want to punch himself in the face. "Schmidt. You have to know that's not true," he pleaded. "I wasn't fucking with you. And I know how - stupid that sounds, but. I've **never** felt about anyone, the way I do about you. So maybe - maybe I'm not _'in love'_ with you," Jenko paused. Knowing he'd never put it that way to himself, but mostly because it sounded scary and huge and impossible. Saying it aloud now made his stomach turn over, but _only_ because it was scary, and huge. But not at all impossible.

"But even if I'm not... I fucking. Do." He shook his head, feeling caught. Because the word he wanted to say... The word that had been there for way longer than could _ever_ make sense to someone who was sane, was, "Love - you." And he hated that it made him feel like crying, because maybe he was. Maybe he was fucking crazy and stupid and that's the only reason he felt this way. "Whatever that means, and I'm sorry if that pisses you off or if you can't understand it. I don't get it either," he said, smiling, bitter and self-deprecating. He turned his hands into his pockets and started to walk out. "I'm really sorry. By the way. I didn't mean for it to be like this."

No. This was worse than anything _his_ stupid brain could have imagined. He swung the bathroom door open and started walking out to the parking lot. He wasn't going to breakdown. He wasn't going to make a big deal out of this. It's what he deserved and he was going to fucking take it.

As he put the key in his ignition, there was a tap at his window. He'd been so clouded over in thought, that he hadn't seen. There was Schmidt. With their pizza in a box, and the paper and pen on top. Jenko frowned, but rolled his window open.

"Don't leave. Don't - don't go. Please." Schmidt sounded kind of heart-broken, which caught Jenko off guard. And shit, shit, shit, no. His eyes were burning, but it didn't matter, because he wasn't going to. Still. He clenched his jaw. Unlocked his doors, inviting Schmidt to come around and get into the passenger seat. "You really meant it." He was in awe, and part of Jenko's heart tugged. God, he loved how that sounded on Schmidt.

"Dude, I've never. _Ever_. Said that to anyone before." And he hadn't. He'd never used that tactic to get laid. Never even said it to his parents since it wasn't in their vocabulary. Jenko. Just. Never.

Maybe that made him too messed up of a person to be able to trust his own feelings. But what was he supposed to do? Schmidt was all he thought about anymore. Besides guns, car chases and awesome explosions. He wanted to spend all his time with him, and. Everything he felt all the time felt like everything he'd always been missing. So it had to be love, right? "Of _course_ I meant it."

" _I'm sorry_. Man, I was so fucking wrong it's blowing my mind. I don't think I've ever been such a dick in my whole life. I am _so_ sorry, Jenko." His fist wrapped around Jenko's wrist, where he'd been holding on to the joystick for dear life. "Jenko. Please. Can you just look at me for a second?" Jenko's Adam's apple bobbed. He swallowed down all the fear and - sadness - that he could, to muster up the courage to do as was asked. Schmidt's face looked sappy all over again. This time his mouth was turned down, and he looked like maybe he kind of felt like crying, too. "Thank you," he whispered.

"I'm sorry - I really didn't mean what I said. I mean, I guess in a way I was kind of right. That we don't know each other as well as probably most people would say - was smart. But I don't care. I didn't mean that _at all_ , because I've been feeling the same way. The _exact_ same way. And I just - please forgive me, okay? Because I don't know what I'll do with myself if I messed up so bad and like, ruined - us, and - and the way you're feeling. I'd hate myself forever. And I know that sounds like I'm trying to pressure you into this relationship now. And I swear to god that - if you don't want to be with me then don't, because I don't deserve it, but if you do then I -"

Jenko's hand turned over, and he slipped his arm up enough to interlock with Schmidt's. "Schmidt," he chided, waiting for Schmidt to stop rambling and look up at his smiling face. "Shut up, dude." He leaned forward and caught Schmidt's mouth in a kiss. Soft and warm, slow slide of mutual forgiveness. A promise that everything was gonna be alright, even if it wasn't. Schmidt gripped his hand tighter, and his other one wrapped over Jenko's jaw. Jenko smiled into the kiss, lifting his hand to Schmidt's elbow.

After they were breathless. Kissed out their doubts and residual fears, Jenko and Schmidt parted. "Let me sign that fucking paper," he said, stealing the pizza box away to the steering wheel for something to write on.

"Partners," Schmidt said softly, looking at Jenko's signature as it landed back in his lap. Jenko smiled wider, pleased that Schmidt could find wonder in that now. He leaned over again, placing a kiss at the side of Schmidt's mouth, begging him into a better angle for more. Jenko thought if it weren't for all the nerves lighting up everywhere in his body, he might melt out of existence. With Schmidt's hands eagerly grasping at his scalp, and the sweet slip-slide of tongue. Jenko's hand grasped awkwardly at Schmidt's hip where they'd turned. Twisted enough to not have the center console in their way.

He flushed red, much the same as Schmidt, when he gingerly pried himself away. Jenko didn't want to get too revved up. Not when he worried about what a physical relationship would entail. But he knew that at least for the moment, he'd rather get Schmidt somewhere more comfortable. Where Jenko could actually hold him and tell him again how much he meant to him. How wonderful he was and that he'd try his best to never make him feel pain _ever_ again. "I don't have my own place yet," Jenko said, leaning his forehead against Schmidt's. Schmidt shook his head, indicating his parents were at their home, where he was still staying. "Not to sound forward, but. Can we go to a motel? Would that be okay?"

"Uh, _yeah_ ," Schmidt said, pulling back to look at Jenko like he was crazy.

Jenko laughed, and rolled his eyes. He started the car, and checked his rear view mirror in case his shoulder had knocked it out of place. It was hard not to be clumsy in a small car. He caught his reflection, and sobered up for a moment. "I just want you to know: Whatever happens between us..."

"We won't let anything tear us apart on the field?" Schmidt supplied, when Jenko found it too difficult to put into words what he'd wanted to say.

"Or vice versa," he said, looking Schmidt in the eyes with a ferocity that said he meant it. No matter what they encountered. Even if anger, mistrust, or unusual habits presented themselves, they'd work things out. Together. Somehow, they'd find a way. Anything, as long as they stayed friends. Forever.

Schmidt held out his fist, and Jenko bumped it.

 

They both agreed that since they had an early morning, they'd sleep in separate beds in their motel room. It would be less of a distraction, but also offer a sense of normalcy in preparation for the ceremony. They woke up, and showered - apart for the same reasons. Tossed the empty pizza box in the trash can, and paid for the room.

Headed back to the academy where they were to receive their uniforms. Having promised to be hands-off 'til later, their classmates kept them in check. That and the fact that everything was a flurry of movement since they arrived.

Change here, stand there, be quiet, still for the photo, shake the mayor's hand, etc.

On the stage, badges pinned, with a boring-ass speaker at the podium, Jenko itched to talk to Schmidt. Who'd been going through the motions right beside him. "Hey." he whispered out of the side of his mouth. "Do you think, maybe, we might be ready to - cause I was thinking. _I_ don't have a place to stay. And _you_ don't have a place to stay. So like, we _both_ need an apartment and -"

Schmidt smacked him on the elbow with his knuckles, trying not to laugh. "Dude, I get it. We've already had our trial run. I'm totally in."

Jenko couldn't help but jerk his elbow passed his side in a ' _fuck yeah_ ' motion. "Get ready for a life of being bad ass motherfuckers." Together. Damn, that felt good to say.

"Oh, I am," Schmidt said, grinning.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I hope the characterization isn't completely off or unrealistic. I feel like I may have channeled too much Duke Orsino and if that's the case I'm really sorry, although not as sorry as I should be because Duke is amazing. But I don't want to reflect poorly on Channing's acting. The characters are vastly different personalities, even though they both have a sweet streak a mile wide. I'm aware I probably failed at differentiating how they show it, though. I'd like to blame part of that on the fact that I wanted to fast track some of the lessons Jenko picked up within the two movies because I think they're very important ones.
> 
> 2\. I _actually_ edited this fic, so I hope it's decent. (Down from 16,100+ words.) The truth is that if I were to take out the is/was/are's of this fic, I'd have nothing left, so unfortunately there's still that pitfall, in particular. Plus a shit-ton of adverbs. I removed a lot of them, though, which makes it even more sad. And a lot of my sentences ended up having the same beginning, but whatever. ~ English is my only language and I suck at it ~
> 
> 3\. Never let me write in a limited POV again. It's fucking impossible.
> 
> 4\. If you find this boring, I'm so sorry. I tried to warn for it in the tags. This fic is just for people who like immature crush angst, I guess. I honestly didn't mean to drag it out this way, or to have the whole end pizza parlor incident, but I still like what came of it so.


End file.
